


Rocket Science

by cauldronofdoom



Series: Living with the Mob [7]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Father/Son, Gen, rockets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-28
Updated: 2012-08-28
Packaged: 2017-11-13 02:02:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/498217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cauldronofdoom/pseuds/cauldronofdoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At age three, Tony Stark designs a rocket. At age six, he uses it to blow up the greenhouse. Maybe space travel isn't as easy as it looks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rocket Science

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” Howard quickly shut off his soldering iron and placed it on the far corner of the table, making sure to put as much space as possible between it and the child that had just invaded his workroom. He knew he’d locked the door behind him, but he wasn’t all that surprised Tony had managed to get in anyway. The kid was smarter than even he was, for all he was still very young.

“Yes, Tony?” He asked, trying to mask the irritation in his voice. He’d told Tony not to bother him here, and he always locked the door, but Tony didn’t seem to understand that coming into his workroom unannounced was dangerous. Howard had blown himself up a time or two, and lost his eyebrows probably twice a year. The idea of Tony walking in on something like that terrified him. 

It was hard to stay even annoyed at Tony when he was smiling with such enthusiasm, though. He had his mother’s blue eyes and bright smile, and Howard already knew that the kid was going to be a heartbreaker as soon as he discovered girls. “I drew a rocket, Daddy!” Tony said, waving a piece of paper around as he ran to hug Howard’s leg. “’Cause I wanna go to space too! Mama says I’m too little for NASA to take me, but you will, won’t you.” It wasn’t even a question, said in the manner of children everywhere. “So I drew a rocket for us! You can build it, and take me and Mama and Jarvis on adventures and meet aliens and visit mars and stuff!”

Tony was almost bouncing in his excitement. Howard really wanted to share in it, but first things first. Tony couldn’t just come waltzing in whenever he wanted. He was going to get hurt. Besides, he knew rules needed to be enforced to have any effectiveness. He didn’t particularly care if Tony ran in the house or jumped on the bed, but coming into the workshop was a big no.

He took Tony’s schematic from him, then stilled the child with both hands on his shoulders. “Tony, you know better than to come into my workshop. You know you’re not allowed in here. This is not a child-friendly space, and you are a child. Also, when I’m in here, I’m working. I can’t blow that off to listen to whatever caught your fancy right this moment. People rely on me, and it’s unfair of me to let them down.” He caught Tony’s chin as the child looked away, forcing his face back up. “Look at me, young man. I’ve told you this before. You didn’t forget, don’t even try to pull that one on me.” Tony closed his mouth with a snap, meaning Howard had hit the nail on the head about why he’d opened it. “You’re smarter than this, Tony. I shouldn’t have to tell you something twice.” He frowned slightly, then decided on a punishment. “No dessert for a week. I’ll tell Jarvis when I come up later.”

Maria would probably be happy. She wanted to try some new diet, as if she needed the help to look wonderful. Howard felt a little cheated that Tony’s stunt meant he was going to miss out on Jarvis’s cakes and pies for a week too, but it wasn’t fair to have the man make dessert specifically for Howard. Jarvis had enough work to do anyway.

Tony had tears in his eyes now, though he was refusing to let them fall. Howard ruffled his hair, proud of his son even as he mourned how mature he was for only three years old. He pulled the child over to his drafting table with him, then tilted it so Tony could see, too. “Let’s take a look at this, shall we?”

Howard was silent for a moment as he contemplated the schematic. Tony obviously hadn’t considered some things he couldn’t be expected to know about, like re-entry, but it was a very thoughtful and well planned piece of work, and he was all but choked by his pride. 

“Right,” He said, picking up his editing pen and clearing his throat, trying not to let his voice shake. “First, the drag created by the fins you put on it would be counterproductive to achieving the appropriate speed at liftoff. There does have to be some sort of stabilizers, though, so you did get that right. A shape more like this, perhaps…”  
*  
“… And I think that’s done it! I’ve got work to do now, but how about we both come down after dinner and we can work on a prototype?” He looked up, expecting, Tony to still be standing next to him. The room was empty, though, and Howard felt disappointed. He’d enjoyed working on a whimsical project, even though it was Tony’s brainchild, and had been looking forward to actually building a model one. He could take his son out to the countryside and spend an afternoon blowing things up and maybe taking aerial photographs.

He’d gotten too involved, likely. Tony was still only three, though he often acted much older. He probably didn’t have the patience to listen to Howard’s long-winded explanations. Hell, his actual engineers often found him ridiculously long-winded and boring when he was inventing. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking, expecting Tony to sit through it. 

He sighed and stretched, wincing as something in his back popped. He wanted to go find Tony right now and start building the silly thing, but he really did have to finish that new missile if they were going to keep the DoD interested in their projects. Howard really wanted them to take a look at the new body armour and improved jets, but he was willing to build them what they asked if it meant they’d buy the things designed to keep people alive, too.

He’d finish this up, then talk to Tony after dinner.   
*  
“Tony?” The boy had escaped the table while Howard was busy enjoying the last dessert he was getting for a while, and he hadn’t thought to tell Tony he wanted to talk to him. Now he was searching through his house, wondering how many places there were for a three-foot terror to hide within it. He’d found a lot of them, some even set up as bolt holes with missing pillows and toys hidden there, but he still hadn’t found his son.

When he eventually did, it was only because he happened to be in his study when he gave up in frustration. He’d thrown himself down on his office chair in annoyance only to spot something bright green under his desk.

The bright green was, of course, the overalls Tony had worn with a black t-shirt today. The outfit was proof that both child and mother put an awful lot of effort into getting him dressed in the morning. Jarvis had bought the bright monstrosity because ‘children love bright colours’, and Tony had immediately decided they were his favourite pants in the whole world. Wearing them with black was all Maria, though, because Tony, given the chance (Maria had been sick and slept in, so Tony had dressed himself before Howard realized it was supposed to be his job) paired it with an equally appalling orange top. Kids loved bright colours, fine, but did they have to be so obsessed with neon?

Still, it meant he was easy to spot in the dark well under the desk. Howard dropped down onto his knees and reached for the child. “Tony?”

Tony was sound asleep, though, clutching a sheet of paper. It was the improved rocket, all of Howard’s corrections already changed. It had a flair that was definitely all Tony, though, and Howard was torn between being amazingly proud of what his child could accomplish and sad that he already wanted to do it all on his own. He’d been looking forward to working on it with Tony. 

He carefully scooped the child up, packing him upstairs as smoothly as he could. Tony only stirred slightly, cuddling up further into his father. 

Howard knew Tony usually had a bath before bed every day, but he was already conked out, it was already past his bedtime, and he really wasn’t that dirty. He had crayon shavings (Howard was already dreading the next use of his sharpener) on his hands and, inexplicably, neck and ears, but those would come off with a damp cloth. 

He just laid Tony out, changed his clothing carefully, and wiped him down. Then he tucked his son in and kissed his forehead, lingering over the sleeping child. Tony looked like a little angel when he slept, all sweet smiles and chubby cheeks. 

Howard ran his finger over his son’s cheek, ending on the paper he was still clutching in one fist. “I understand that it’s your project and you want to build it, Tony.” He told the sleeping child. “I’m sorry I was taking it over. When you’re ready for us to put it together, come find me. I’ll help, Tony, I promise. You just look up aerodynamics and metal strength until you think it’s right. And if it blows up in our faces, well, that can be fun too.”

He kissed his son once more before leaving. It was still early. If he put an extra few hours in, he could guarantee himself a free Sunday. Tony would probably be done designing by then. They could blow something up together. It would be great.  
*  
It had been two full weeks and Tony still hadn’t brought the new plans to him. In fact, he’d changed the subject when Howard had tentatively brought it up, talking about some mutated, pizza-eating turtles instead. And artists. He kept bringing up Renaissance artists for some reason. Howard figured he’d just moved on from space travel and swallowed his disappointment. And if he left out a fairly easy-read book about Leonardo Da Vinci in the hopes Tony would decide to design a better flying machine they could build, no one had to know.  
*  
He kept the design, not quite willing to get rid of something Tony had been so excited about, even if it was just the Big Deal of the day and not a real passion.  
*  
Tony was ‘four-and-a-half’ now, and Howard was frustrated with his engineers. It wasn’t until he’d snapped at his son for no reason at lunch that he’d realized how bad it had become. He pulled out the old spaceship, scrawled a note across the top for his R&D department, and left work early. Tony had already figured out microchips by himself, but he was too small to work on engines alone. They could pull apart the Mustang together after he apologized. 

Tony would like that.  
*  
Tony was six and already building things on his own the next time Howard really thought of the spaceship. He still used it as an example of what he wanted from his engineers, but he didn’t really think about it.

Then Tony blew up the greenhouse. 

He’d been terrified when he’d heard the explosion, knowing it could only have come from one person. He’d sprinted to the backyard, joining Maria. She was screaming and crying, wringing her hands over the mess that used to house plants and tugging beams out of the wreckage. Howard pulled her away and was about to dive into the mess of shattered glass himself when Tony, wearing a particular smile that Howard usually only saw in the mirror, crawled out of the other side. 

He was bleeding in a good dozen places that Howard could see, but he wasn’t clutching himself anywhere or favouring any body part as he shook himself off and then went to smooth himself down with his palms.

“Don’t!” Howard cried, lunging forward and catching his hands. “You’ve got glass all over yourself. You don’t want it ripping your palms apart. What were you thinking, Tony?” He was trying to be stern, but he couldn’t help the smile that matched Tony’s from unfolding on his face. 

Maria was still having hysterics, her hands fluttering all over their son while not touching, but Tony had eyes for only Howard when he solemnly replied. “I think I know now why rockets have special fuel.” He looked over at the ruins of the greenhouse, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Space travel isn’t as easy as the movies make it seem, is it?”

He knew that if he laughed he’d quickly join his wife in her state, and they didn’t have the luxury of that. He had to get Maria calmed down and Tony cleaned up and bandaged. They could discuss the rocket later.  
*  
Maria banned the word ‘rocket’ from the house, and both of them had their desserts revoked when she caught them discussing it. Out of respect for her nerves, they both promised her never to bring it up again.

There was no way Howard would forget, though. His six year old son had built a rocket!


End file.
